


Modern Magic

by macabreverbosity



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Biting, Fist Fights, Hand Jobs, Hux is in hiding, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Bites, M/M, Modern Witch Kylo, Painplay, Past Child Abuse, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Potions, Scratching, Writer Hux, but like romantic fist fights, it's like foreplay, sorry mom sorry god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7465470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabreverbosity/pseuds/macabreverbosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One did not just wake up every day to random things being left at their doorstep. The morning paper? Of course. That was practically par for the course. The jugs of milk? That was expected and in fact customary. The charms and potions that were left with alarming regularity with vague notes in barely legible script? That had not been something Hux had anticipated happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modern Magic

**Author's Note:**

> who knows what this is. I saw a prompt on tumblr and this sort of. happened.

Truth be told, he'd been suspicious, at first.

One did not just wake up every day to random things being left at their doorstep. The morning paper? Of course. That was practically par for the course. The jugs of milk? That was expected and in fact customary. The charms and potions that were left with alarming regularity with vague notes in barely legible script? That had not been something Hux had anticipated happening. He was fairly certain he hadn't signed up for that.

Hux knew who it was; who was putting them there. Of course he knew. The person was the only witch in the whole neighborhood—the children liked to go up to the house and knock on the doors to meet the witch, they were scared but Hux had seen the man giving them little stones and sometimes candy, returning their wayward baseballs and other such paraphernalia—it was not a huge feat to make the logical leap to him being the culprit. The person who was so callously invading Hux's carefully cultivated private space and depositing his vile little potions and charms here and there, trying to be helpful. It was downright ghastly. It was something akin to...sociability and it made his skin crawl uncomfortably.

Hux was not nice. He did not do nice and he did not associate with nice. In kind, people were not amiable to him and he was perfectly content with the state of affairs remaining as such. He did not need people's kindness, what he needed was their efficiency and skills and for them to leave him alone. He'd rather people be competent than sociable, truth be told.

He hadn't learned much from his Father, callous and unresponsive as the man had always been the last time Hux had seen him; but he had learned enough. Had learned what was important. Emotions would get him nowhere, so it was in his best interest to eradicate them. His father had beaten the lesson into him with words and occasionally fists, but he had survived. He had survived. He'd learned even. His father would, perhaps, be proud now—with the son he'd crafted of blood and strife. The son that survived despite him, had ran away and lived to tell the tale.

He'd been in hiding for years now, since his days in the halls of his Ivy league university of choice. He'd waited, bided his time till the opportunity had presented itself in the form of a full scholarship to his first choice school. So Hux had planned and planned for months. Saving up money and making arrangements for his departure. He'd made meticulous plans in secret and his family had been none the wiser.

When he'd left, at last, he had not looked back. Had not looked back to see the flicker of sadness in his father’s eyes drowned out by the overwhelming wave of relief at his son's departure, it was a well-known but unspoken fact that his father considered him a disappointment, among other things. Brendol Hux was not an affectionate father. He had been cruel more often than he hadn't, had been unfair and demanding of his only son. The Lord knew Hux had tried. He'd tried to please his father, he'd even begun his slow progress into a medical career, was on the fast track to success. He, of course, had went through with it and graduated with honors. He'd done it; then, perhaps out of spite he had decided to become something he'd always wanted to be.

A writer.

Thus, Hux had disappeared. He had changed his first name from his father’s ridiculous and frankly distasteful one. He'd chosen another one, something that fit him snugly. Armitage. Isolation; a hermit's name for one living in hiding.

Armitage Hux. He'd liked the name, it suited him...felt important, somehow. He'd, of course, kept his last name and used it as his default; in his profession it was not unusual to go by one's last name or any name he chose, really. Thus he'd spent his years; countless faces coming and going, a blur of people that never stayed and neither did Hux want them to. Until this inconvenience.

And it was an inconvenience. Despite that fact Hux had taken to keeping the small potion vials, charms and precious stones that were left on his doorstep; he even had a special cabinet dedicated to the endeavor. Truth be told, he was finding the whole ordeal mildly endearing despite the overall horror of the situation.

Today the potion had been for happiness and peaceful sleep. It smelled faintly of cinnamon and other spices he couldn't quite identify. Hux briefly contemplated storming up to the house two doors down and demanding to know what the fuck the guy’s problem was and who he thought he was to intrude into Hux’s life like he fucking _cared_ or some such sentimental nonsense; because Hux knew for a fact he was the only one getting these special little tokens and frankly it was driving him up a wall with anxious energy.

The next time Hux opened his door he found a small amethyst crystal and another small vial with a note attached to it. _for your nerves._ It said in looping barely legible hand and Hux had had enough. He crumpled the paper in his clenched fist and decided that today. Today this would stop.

Several moments of furious speed walking saw Hux to the man's door which was solid black and had an honest to God skull knocker on it, because of course. What had he expected? Something normal? Reluctantly he grips the handle and knocks twice—quick, sharp raps—and waited. The door opened slowly and Hux completely forgot that he had business here. Important business to discuss with the man standing before him. _Was it really that important though?_ His mind supplied helpfully.

The man smiled—or rather smirked there was really no way to tell the difference, as though the two expressions were interchangeable on this face, there was something sharp in the soft boyish look of him. Hux stared...and then stared some more. The man before his was clad simply in form fitting black jeans and a simple plain black V-neck t-shirt. A glimmer of silver caught Hux’s eyes and he noticed the eyebrow bar and the row of hoops on each of the man's ears. When he moved to run one hand through his mass of dark brown curls that brushed against the tops of his shoulders, Hux noticed the rings. Some were heavy, chunky silver and others had stones in them in multiple colors but mostly dark. Hux's mouth went dry and he briefly wondered how it would feel to get punched with all that metal. How much more it would hurt...

"Can I help you?" The man clears his throat, smile dropping off his face to be replaced by something more calculating, smoldering in its intensity.

Beyond words, Hux simply thrusts the crumpled paper towards him. A silent demand to explain.

“Ah, yeah. You better step inside.”

Hux manages to regain control over his vocal cords—and thoughts—by the time they enter the living room and he takes a moment to survey his surroundings. The house followed an open floor plan, there were no walls and every surface seemed to be covered in some sort of decorative item—some looked like antiques, heirlooms perhaps, some of them, however, were clearly stones of various shapes and sizes. There were a few small potted plants scattered about and the furniture was all in various shades of black and grey. It was…lived in, was the only way Hux found he could describe it. Unlike his own pristine space this house actually appeared to be lived in. It was ironic considering Hux’s rather agoraphobic tendencies, but he supposed it happened when one treated their surroundings as temporary. As a child he’d made sure to always be ready to travel light considering the amount of times he’d been uprooted due to his father’s military career. Later on, that desire to travel light was born from a place of practicality, it was easier to disappear when you had little to take with you. Then he hadn’t really thought about what it meant to live in a house beyond the shelter it provided.

“Are you going to come in or are you going to keep staring at the thyme plant like it offended your mother?”

“Charming.” Hux says dryly “Care to explain yourself, Sabrina the not-so-teenage witch?”

“it’s Kylo. Kylo Ren.” Kylo shakes his head once as if to clear it, “Anyways, no need to get angry, Gingersnaps. I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been kind of stressed lately so I thought I’d help.”

“First, I have a name and it certainly is not ‘Gingersnaps’. Second, that’s awfully presumptuous of you.”

“Yeah well, I couldn’t exactly ignore it.”

“I can assure you it would have been very easy to. There’s this revolutionary thing called minding your own damn business!”

“I couldn’t, you were loud.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your…energy.” Kylo makes a vague gesture with his hands and Hux notices the black nail polish on his nails, it was glittery, like the midnight sky. “It was distracting.”

“That has to be the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard anyone say in my entire life.”

“Listen, Gingersna—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“What the fuck else should I call you then?”

“Hux, just call me Hux.”

“What the fuck kind of name is that supposed to be?”

And Hux really should not have thrown the punch but he does it anyways. He feels the skin of his knuckles split open, feels the pain of it but he doesn’t let it faze him in the slightest. He looks up to find Kylo bleeding but what catches him off guard is the look in his eyes and the way he licks the blood from his lips as though he relished it. Relishes the pain of it. Hux doesn’t really register the punch until his eyes cross and his vision blacks out at the edges, even then he doesn’t fall, doesn’t even stagger, though, he’s fairly certain that his lip—among other things—is split open.

Hux isn’t exactly sure who had bridged the gap between them but the next thing he knows he’s being pushed back against a wall and kissed as though his life depended on it. His split lip was sore but it didn’t really matter; not when Kylo slid his tongue into his mouth so perfectly, Hux could cry, as is he lets out a low keening moan that he would deny till the day he dies. Their teeth clack together painfully, sinking into lips and pulling at already abused flesh, tearing moans of both pain and pleasure from their chests. Kylo breaks the kiss first smearing both their blood against the pale expanse of Hux’s cheek and moving his mouth lower, sucking bruises into Hux’s neck and lower still to the sharp jut of his collarbones. Kylo’s hands trail down Hux’s sides, over his shirt, pulling the fabric free from his waistband and pushing his hands underneath to lay his hands flat against Hux’s back while still sucking bruises into any skin he could reach.

Kylo’s hands rub circles into Hux’s back as he licks back into his mouth. Hands travelling higher to rest against Hux’s shoulder blades briefly before curling into the flesh and racking his nails down Hux’s back, surely leaving scratches in his wake. Hux shivers and moans into Kylo’s mouth, fingers scrambling for purchase over the black fabric of Kylo’s t-shirt, desperate for more. More skin, more contact, more anything. Everything.

Kylo takes the hint and let’s go of Hux—the involuntary whine at the loss of contact was something Hux chose to pointedly ignore—only long enough to undo Hux’s fly and then his own and shove their pants and underwear far enough down their thighs to get their cocks out. Kylo licks a stripe across his palm before fisting their leaking cocks in one hand and stroking, the pace nice and slow at first, a delicious drawl, his hand twisting over the heads on the upstroke. All Hux could do was cling on for dear life and throw his head back with a thunk against the wall and moan as though this were the best sex he’d ever had in his life, which—pathetically—it probably was. At least it was the best in recent memory. All thought is chased out of his head as Kylo’s strokes become faster, harder, hand twisting more forcefully. They were both panting now, mouth open against the other’s, eyes closed. There was nothing but smell and sensation and overwhelming heat. A sense of urgency building and burning through them as Kylo’s strokes lose rhythm. Hux wanted to say he was close, wanted to give any indication of it but he was far too gone for that, instead he buries his head against Kylo’s neck and bites into the meat of his shoulder, muffling his scream as he comes, hot and thick over Kylo’s hand. Kylo soon follows with a rough grunt as he continues to stroke them through the aftershocks.

“Well.” Hux manages when he’s finally able to speak again.

“Well.” Kylo replies, mocking smile in place once more.

“Are you going to stop with your ridiculous courtship now?” Hux asks, eyebrow arching expectantly.

“Not a chance, Gingersnaps. Though, now I just might have to come over and deliver them personally. Seems only fair.” Kylo’s smile turns sharp and Hux could really not be blamed for hooking his foot around the taller man’s knee and dropping him on his ass. With as much dignity as Hux can muster, he tucks himself back up and walks over Kylo’s prostrate body towards the door.

“You know where I live.” Hux throws over his shoulder before he slams the door behind him and for once in his life, the idea that someone knows where to find him is not terrifying.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr [here](murderdollls.tumblr.com)  
> 


End file.
